Silent Aid
by Tamuril2
Summary: Part 5 of the Seneschal Chronicles. Some short and unknown stories about the silent aid Erestor gave to the children of Elrond and Celebrian, and they to him.
1. Night Terrors

**Disclaimer: **None of this is mine, nor do I make money off of it.

**1stA/N: **This was originally just a short story put into three parts, but I decided ot make it a short story with three chapters. Hope you enjoy it!

**_2nd A/N:_ **A special thanks to my beta for looking over this and to Oleanne.

* * *

_And so, in conclusion, I will not be able to attend the opening hunt this year, though I thank you for remembering me and my family in your invitations._

_If it is at all possible, I hope to visit you on a later date._

_Sincerely,_

_The Lord of Bririon,_

_Sir Thomas Whistlebush_

A rare smirk ran across Erestor's lips as he re-read the last part of the letter and rolled it back up. In truth, he had not expected Lord Thomas to accept the invitation. It was only courtesy that had made him send it to the human in the first place. Had it been Lord Isacor, the late lord and father of Lord Thomas, Erestor would have had the servants prepare the guestroom before the reply had even come; however, Lord Thomas was, as he'd pointed out on their first meeting, not his father.

Sir Thomas Whistlebush had just come into his position of command in the town of Bririon. His late father, Lord Isacor, had ruled the town for over eighty years and had only died in the past several months. It had been Lord Isacor who had started the trade of fabrics between Imladris and Bririon. Lord Thomas, while he was not a bad man, was still young and of the mind that he knew best. Erestor expected that on his next visit he would bring an outline of the new trade agreements, along with a demand for more money.

Erestor shook his head. The young were often of that mind, especially in the case of humans. He placed the rolled-up scroll to the side and got out a fresh piece of parchment with which to write a reply to the young lord. He had only just started to write the rough draft when the door of the library creaked open and a small figure scurried in. Shock rushed through Erestor as his mind grasped that someone had come to see him at this late hour, and then dread as he realized just who his late-night visitor was – Arwen, Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian's newest child.

Arwen was not yet seven years of age. She had a gap in the front of her mouth where her two front teeth had yet to come in. If she were human, her height would have suggested she were three years, instead of seven. She was clad in a simple white nightgown and had the arm of her stuffed bear clutched in her left fist. Sorrowful grey eyes rose to meet his black ones and a sniffle reached his ear. At once, Erestor was on his feet and striding over to the forlorn figure. He sat on his heels so he was at eye length with Arwen and grasped her little shoulder with a gentle hand.

"What is wrong, my lady?" he asked. Another sniffle came from Arwen.

"I'm thcard, Ewether…"

Normally Arwen's lisp would have brought a small smile to Erestor's face, but right now the only thing Erestor felt was worry. Arwen did not often admit to being scared. Something must be wrong.

Was it an intruder?

Perhaps he should get Glorfindel after he'd found out just what it was that had scared the little elleth.

"What has scared you, my lady?"

"M-monther…"

A monster! Was it an orc?

"An orc, my lady?" Erestor asked as his worry built even higher. This had never before happened in Imladris before. And, of course, it would happen when Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian were away at Lothlorien. He was prepared to rush over to Glorfindel's private quarters, when he noticed Arwen was shaking her head 'no'.

"It is not an orc, my lady?"

Arwen nodded, still clutching her bear.

"Then what kind of monster is it?"

Perhaps a spider from Mirkwood? They had never been known to hunt this far north.

"It'th called the Tickle monther…" Arwen explained in a small voice, her bottom lip trembling.

Relief rushed through Erestor as he realized that Arwen had said 'Tickle monster'. He had a feeling he knew just who had given the elfling such nightmares.

"I suppose your brothers told you about this monster?"

"Yeth."

Erestor let a smile ghost his lips as he shook his head. The twins, Elladan and Elrohir, were obviously bored. He would have to find them something to keep them preoccupied, but for now, he had to reassure the elleth before taking her back to her rooms. He had never had to do this before, but Erestor was sure it could not be that hard. He took care of rooms of disagreeing elves and humans, reassuring Arwen would be as easy.

"Now, my lady, you know better than to believe your brothers, especially when they tease you."

"They weren't teathing! They were telling the truth!"

"Now, my lady, I can assure you that there is no such thing as a Tickle Monster."

"Yeth, there ith! I thaw it!"

"My lady –"

"Pleath, Ewether, I'm thcard!"

"Do you want me to come with you back to your room?"

"No!" Arwen pulled away, eyes wide, and hugged her bear close, "I don't want to go back!"

This was becoming harder than Erestor had first thought: "Then what would you have me do, my lady?"

"Can…can I thleep in here?"

Erestor was taken aback. He understood, in theory, why little Arwen asked, but never before had anyone trusted him enough to take care of them. Only a select few took the trouble to get to know him – the real him – and none of them asked for his help unless it was with a treaty or feast.

"Would…would you not rather go to your brothers, Arwen?" Erestor asked, dropping the formal 'my lady' in his curiosity. Arwen shook her head hard.

"Uh-uh," she said, "They not throng enough."

"What about Glorfindel? He is strong."

"He'th not you."

The honest and simple reply cut Erestor's heart to the quick. He had never really interacted with the small elleth before and yet she still felt as though he could protect her. Erestor did not have the heart to send her away now. He stood and walked over to the couch on the left wall. He shook the blanket – Lord Elrond had insisted he keep one in case he ever got cold at night – and motioned Arwen over.

Her eyes lit up as she ran over and jumped onto the couch. Erestor laid the woolen blanket over her and smoothed her hair out of her face. She beamed up at him. Erestor smiled back.

"Now, go to sleep," he said, turning towards his desk. He felt something tug the end of his robe's sleeve. Glancing down he saw Arwen's worried face looking up at him.

"What about the monther?" her small voice quivered. Erestor bent down.

"Worry not. Any monster would be foolish to come in here while I'm protecting you."

She nodded, serious, and snuggled in. Erestor allowed himself a rare display of affection as he patted her head. He stretched his arms as he sat down at his desk again and focused on his reply to Lord Thomas. Every now and again he glanced over at the figure on his couch, but Arwen never moved other than to breathe, safe in the knowledge that no monster would ever come near her.

This soon became a habit of Arwen's until she turned twelve, but Erestor never minded. As he told Glorfindel, when the Captain asked if he minded the young elleth being with him, it made him feel proud that she trusted him so completely.


	2. Archery Training

Chapter 2 - Archery Training

"No!" Elrohir's normally calm voice rang through the back training grounds. Erestor pushed down his urge to sigh. He would never understand how he had allowed Glorfindel to coerce him into agreeing with this. While it had taken some time for the older ellon to convince him into teaching the younger twin in archery, it had taken far less than Erestor felt it should have. Perhaps he was going soft, living in such a peaceful place as Imladris.

(Start flashback)

_"You want me to do what?" Erestor spluttered as he lowered his drink. Glorfindel grinned at him from behind his own glass of wine._

_"The others many not know, but I know that you're a master of the subject."_

_"That may be true, but it has been years since I have picked up a bow, let alone shot an arrow from one."_

_"Then you may want to practice a bit before you take Elrohir under your wing."_

_Erestor glared at the golden haired ellon. "Sometimes, Glorfindel…sometimes…"_

_"I know, but the poor ellon is so downhearted about this year's tournament in Mirkwood."_

_"He placed last."_

_"Yes! He's vowed to give up archery altogether. You must teach him!"_

_"Oh I must, must I?" Erestor asked, sitting back in his chair and getting comfortable._

_"Yes, you must. There is no other in all of Imladris that has your talent with the bow. If Elrohir is to have any chance of improving enough to place first in next year's tournament, you must teach him!"_

_Erestor watched the wine in his glass swirl around as he twirled the glass. He sighed._

_"I must be getting soft," he said in defeat. Glorfindel's face practically glowed as he grinned at him._

_"Then you will teach him?"_

_"Yes."_

_"I am glad!"_

_"You might not be when you find out the price of such an agreement."_

_Glorfindel sat back. "What price?"_

_"You are going to Bree soon, are you not?"_

_"Yeesss…" Glorfindel said slowly._

_"I want four bottles of their best Elderberry wine."_

_"What?" Now it was Glorfindel's turn to splutter. "But that will cost me a whole months pay!"_

_"That is the price."_

_"And you will not teach the ellon otherwise?"_

_"Of course I will teach him! However, if he's anything like his twin, I'm going to need a good drink at the end of the day. You will owe me those bottles before I'm done with him."_

_Glorfindel's boisterous laughter echoed around the small room. Erestor's cat, Aranel, opened a lazy eye from her seat on the window edge and glared at them in bored contempt. She was used to the odd behavior of both, but still felt it rude of them to wake her in such a crude manner. Yawning though, she turned around and faced her back to them, she had better things to do then indulge them._

_"All right, all right," Glorfindel said, "four bottles of Elderberry wine it is then."_

(End flashback)

"Yes, you will," Erestor said, calm as he folded his arms across his chest, eyes narrowed. He had been trying to teach Elrohir for over two weeks now and every lesson went almost exactly as this one was. Elrohir would either argue with Erestor, pout, or storm off. Erestor was getting tired of the whole thing to be honest.

"No!" Elrohir said and threw his bow down in emphasis. "I have been at this for over an hour already and I still cannot hit a leaf! It is impossible, you're impossible!"

Erestor let Elrohir's rant continue for a minute more before he strode over to the elf. The young ellon took a nervous step back, as if he expected Erestor to strike him, but Erestor only picked the discarded bow up.

"Give me one of your arrows."

"What?"

"Give me one of your arrows," Erestor commanded. Cowed by his tone Elrohir complied and handed one over.

"Now, you must remember to keep your muscles loose," Erestor fit the arrow into the bow with practiced ease. "Then sight and line up your target, the old oak."

"It's thirty feet away!"

"An easy feat for an elf."

Elrohir humphed in reply.

"Listen," Erestor said, "you pick a leaf that is falling from the top, follow it down with your arrow point. Once it's past the branches you sight one more time, take a deep breath in, and then release it, releasing the arrow at the same time. Make sure you aim a few inches lower than the leaf actually is."

"Easier said than done," Elrohir mumbled. Erestor let him, the ellon would learn soon enough, and focused on his target. It was autumn and the old tree was getting rid of its leaves as quick as it could, so picking a leaf was not hard. Once he had a leaf in sight, Erestor took a deep breath and let it out slowly, releasing his arrow at the same time.

The slim arrow cut through the air like a hawk to its prey and struck its intended target, pinning it to the oak. Erestor didn't have to look at Elrohir to know the ellon had a stunned expression plastered on his face. He smirked as he lowered the bow.

"You can close your mouth now," Erestor said. Elrohir strode over to the oak tree and examined the pinned leaf. He glanced back at Erestor with wide eyes.

"You hit it dead center!" he said as he turned back towards the arrow.

"Indeed."

"B-but how?"

"Practice."

Erestor watched Elrohir's broad shoulders slump as he realized his teacher was, in fact, not asking the impossible of him and that Erestor did know what he was talking about. Erestor walked over to the humbled ellon and handed him his bow back.

"Practice," he said and walked back towards the living buildings. He did not look back once, yet he knew by the sounds of the bowstring that Elrohir was doing just as he had asked. Good. Now the ellon would stand a chance in next year's tournament.

As it was, Elrohir not only stood a chance, he finished second place in the next year's tournament, losing only by a centimeter to his best friend, Legolas. Erestor could not have been prouder.

"Watch the left! Close ranks and ready yourselves!" Elrohir heard the commander order as he notched an arrow in his bow. He was part of a twelve membered group. Their targets? Fifteen, maybe more, orcs. Objective? Eliminate them before they got too close to Imladris. Each member had been handpicked by the commander for their abilities; some for their swordsmanship, others for their archery. Elrohir had been picked because of the latter. It was well known in Imladris and Mirkwood that Elrohir was one of the best marksmen, though not many knew it was because of Erestor.

"Archers to the ready!"

Elrohir drew his bow string back, his teacher's words echoing in his mind.

Remember to keep your muscles loose.

He sighted his first target.

Take a deep breath in, and then release it, releasing the arrow at the same time.

Elrohir shot and an orc fell dead.

"Reload!"

Another arrow, another dead orc. Soon there were only the elves walking about. Elrohir plucked his arrows from the bodies. As gruesome as the task was, he knew that it was best not to waste any arrow – yet another lesson from Erestor. They then piled the orc bodies and burned them.

"Form ranks! We march for home!" the commander said. In an instant there was a row of perfectly lined elves. The commander gave them all a glance over before nodding and waving them forward. Elrohir drew in a deep breath once they were far enough away from the battle ground. The autumn air was crisp and cool.

"You did well today, Elrohir," one of his companions said from beside him. Elrohir grinned.

"Thank you. You also did well."

"So, I heard you placed first in this year's archery tournament."

"Yes, though only just. Legolas gave me quite the run for it."

Soft laughter rippled through the ranks at this before another ellon spoke up. "I've been meaning to ask you for some time now, who was it that taught you the bow?"

"Yes," another ellon echoed, "I asked Master Grandiel, but he denied teaching you."

Elrohir smiled. He knew the shock that would accompany his answer. "Erestor."

Silence and then: "What!?"

"Surely you jest!"

"Erestor never leaves the library, let alone teaches others!"

Elrohir laughed. "He is still my teacher. Thank the Valar he did not give up on me in the beginning."

"You were a hard student?"

"Very. I must have questioned everything he said for two weeks before he finally put me in my place."

Silence again.

"It is still odd," one ellon said and the others murmured their agreement. Elrohir just shook his head. He was glad Erestor had decided to teach him. He thanked Eru every time he drew his bow in battle for giving him Erestor as a teacher. Had it not been for the advanced training, Elrohir was sure there would have been many more times he would have been injured.

And, despite what the others believed, Elrohir knew he had seen the faint beginning of a smile on Erestor's when he'd told him about the tournament this year, though all the ellon had said was 'that is good'. In just those few words, Elrohir felt the pride that usually came when he had told his father some great accomplishment of his.


	3. Returning the Favours

_Crack!_

Thunder snapped through the darkened night sky as Arwen hurried through the dimly lit hallways. Her long, black hair flowed behind her and her blue dress rippled wildly as she ran. Stopping just outside the library doors, she took a deep, calming breath and opened the left one, stepping in with practiced ease. The inside was lit by a dying fire and one small candle on a desk, yet Arwen did not need those to see that she was just in time.

_Crack!_

The large pile of manuscripts on Erestor's desk wobbled close to the edge of the table as yet another clap resounded throughout the night sky. Erestor himself sat slumped in his chair, dark head in his hands. Thunder cracked again and Arwen saw him flinch at the sound. His hands came up to his ears and covered them with shaking palms. Then, she was beside him, her warm hands on his cold ones, pulling them away.

"Erestor?" she whispered.

Frightened black eyes, so different and vulnerable from their usual appearance, jerked up to her grey ones. Looking at him now, shaking and so close to tears, Arwen saw not the Seneschal of Imladris, but a friend in need. She smiled gently and pulled the smaller ellon up. Not a word was said as she led him to the couch on the left wall and sat him down.

"Wait here," she said, "I'm going to stoke the fire."

She could feel his eyes watching her every move as she added some more kindling and wood and poked it alive with the iron rod. Soon the rich glow of the flames warmed her face and threw its light about the room.

"There now," she said, sitting down beside her oldest friend and smoothing her dress out. "That's better."

Erestor's eyes were focused on the fire. Arwen knew he was caught between relieving whatever painful memories brought this on and the shame that he needed her help. She did not mind helping him, though he might think she did. She was here, just as she always was. Arwen did not mind taking on the role of comforter. She wasn't even sure just what it was she protected him from – or what haunted him so much that it reduced him to this – but she was grateful she was able to do this much for him.

It had started when she had come in on him one stormy night and found him, eyes wide in fright, covering his ears. It had taken a while for her to get him to admit that this sometimes happened during thunder storms, but as soon as she had she'd at once made it her objective to be with him during any other such storms that followed.

"So," Arwen smoothed her dress again, "I've been working on a prank for Elladan and Elrohir. Any suggestions?"

"Why do you come?"

Arwen pushed down her sigh; this again? She wished she knew what it was that made Erestor question any kind act done to him. "Because I care."

"Why?"

"You are my friend, my protector…"

"From the Tickle Monster…"

"I'll have you know that Tickle Monster is a vicious creature," Arwen said with a mock pout. A sliver of a smile could be seen on the edge of Erestor's mouth and Arwen's heart filled with hope at seeing it.

"Indeed," he paused for a moment. "Do you feel you must repay me?"

Arwen took a moment to collect herself. He had never pressed this much before and she wanted to make sure that what she said was right. "No. I would do this for anyone in need of my assistance, especially if they were a friend. I care about you, Erestor, and would not see you suffer alone."

"You do not even know what it is I fear…are you not curious?"

"I would be lying if I said no, but that does not change anything."

Erestor was silent and Arwen hoped he believed her enough to put away these thoughts of doubt.

"Thank you," he said at last. Thunder snapped again, but Erestor's flinch was not as pronounced as before.

"It is nothing," She said and squeezed one of his hands. "Now, are you going to help me get back at my brothers or not?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well, it involves a certain prince who shall be arriving in two days' time and some of the honey from Bree…"

The End.


End file.
